


Old News

by lunaseemoony



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, Teen Romance, UST
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:03:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4380047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaseemoony/pseuds/lunaseemoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While traveling not long after the Doctor, Rose and Mickey left the 18th/51st century, an accident regresses the Doctor’s mind to a teenager’s.  And as far as he’s concerned, this idiot “Doctor” that keeps leaving the beautiful Rose behind is old news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old News

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet is for hanluvr's prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet is for hanluvr's prompt
> 
> While this chapter is rated Teen, its follow up will be NSFW, hence the explicit rating.

 

The bloke with the most unbelievable luck award went to one John Smith. Sure, they all go on about sneaking into clubs and getting pissed. But none of them actually manage to  _do_  it! Oh, he was riding high today. Did he really look 18? Looking in the mirror, he certainly looked smartly dressed if he said so himself. Maybe it was the hair! Backcombing, he’ll never understand why more people don’t try backcombing. It made him look a few years older, or so he’d convinced the bartender. What the bartender didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“There you are!” A woman plopped down on the stool next to his and jabbed his shoulder. “I could just  _smack_  you! D'you know, Doctor, how long I’ve been looking for you? Huh? Care to guess?”

He was about to tell this crazy bird that she had him mistaken for someone else when he caught a good glimpse of her. His memory of every other one he’d seen that day, hell, that  _month_ , completely dissolved the instant he laid eyes on the blonde goddess that graced him with her mere presence. Oh, he could go over her wonderfully curvaceous  _assets_  all day, sure. But the fiery passion she was searing into him left them all in the dust. There was something about the way her perfect golden amber eyes glared at him, obscured only by her sweet honey hair falling in her face, that ignited his own passions. Only he liked to think his weren’t of the homicidal variety. Who was this ‘Doctor’ bloke, and why the hell didn’t he permanently affix himself to this siren’s side? The fuck was wrong with him? He had to be mental. That was it. This goddess of his just had to be a saint.

If she was convinced he was this 'Doctor,’ who was he to argue? John slide his elbow down so he was looking up at the goddess and hummed before he blurted out, “Yup, the Doctor. That’s me! And you’re…”

She clapped her forehead and frowned at the bartender. “How many has he had?”

The bartender snorted. “One.”

“It didn’t have ginger in it, by any chance? Please tell me you didn’t give him a rum and ginger ale,” she grimaced and asked before sniffing his pint glass.

“Just beer.”

“So what did you do then?” she growled. Oh, that growl. He’d love for her to growl at him like that with a smile on her face.

“Rose, did you find him?” Some oaf came lumbering up behind her and shouted above the din. “Oh, there you are. Wow, pissed much, mate? Think we better get you out of here,” he laughed.

John – the 'Doctor’ – rose off his stool and prodded the oaf in his chest. “You can just step off. I saw her first.”

“Doctor!” his goddess, Rose (and wasn’t she just) scolded him.

He put on just a slight pout. “I did though, right?”

“Fine by me. I’m going back to the TARDIS,” the oaf raised his hands and walked away. “You two can sort this out on your own.”

She growled again, and he shifted in his stance. “I’m not… I’m so not doing this with you right now. I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea to _ditch_ me when you told me to stay put! D'you know how long I was looking for you? Do you?”

“An hour?”

“Six!”

A mixture of dread and deja vu overwhelmed him at once. Or it could have just been the beer. First one probably would do that, right? Something about that number just seemed distinctly bad for some reason he couldn’t put his finger on (though he could think of some other things he  _could_  put his finger on if he was lucky enough). His theory was validated when the sweet Rose began to sniff and straighten herself, as if holding back a flood of tears. Whoever this 'Doctor’ bloke was, the disappearing idiot didn’t deserve Rose, that was for sure.

“And you  _promised_  you wouldn’t do that to me again! Not if you could help it… and I wanted to believe you. But it’s only been a week since you and Reinette… That’s just… I don’t know if I can keep going like this if you’re going to keep - ” Rose’s lip quivered and she shrank into herself a little.

Time to wing it. He stepped closer to Rose and grabbed her hand. He imagined himself stealing away the rest of her words in a breathtaking kiss. But he very much didn’t want to be smacked, as she’d threatened. It was a start. “Rose, I’m so sorry for making you wait. It’ll never happen again. And there’s no 'me and Reinette,’ just 'me and Rose.’ Promise.”

“And Mick.”

Okay, she was biting. Maybe pop it up a notch? He cupped her cheek with his free hand, and she leaned into it, peering up at him with much softer eyes. These were even more beautiful than the fiery gaze she greeted him with. Again, they felt so familiar. Fuck, he was the most unbelievably lucky guy in the whole club that night. She had the softest face, with a precious little button nose that he wanted to kiss. Well, he wanted to kiss a good many places on the parts of her he could (and couldn’t) see. Like her lips, so full and pink and desperately in need of a little spoiling. If only he could see her smile. He could imagine it, that angelic smile.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant you and me.  _Only_  you and me. Okay?” Rose nodded in his hand. He was killing it tonight! He let go of her hand and framed her face in his. She was too beautiful not to touch. “You believe me, don’t you, Rose?” She lowered her head a little like a puppy offering herself for affections, and did he ever want to give them. “You know you look so beautiful. Have I ever told you that?”

“Once,” she murmured. He could feel her cheeks warming his clammy palms.

“Only once?” Bloody hell. “You’re so beautiful, Rose. Gorgeous. Vivacious. Resplendent.” He patted himself on the back for somehow pulling out the mature words instead of the valueless ones that were invading his mind. Rose wasn’t just any bird. She was priceless. “You deserve the best.”

“Alright, alright, you’re forgiven. Flattery won’t get you everywhere.”

She freed herself from his hands and smiled at him. Oh, there it was, the most radiant smile. A girl didn’t like to be told she was perfect, but he was allowed to think she was, right? He didn’t have to tell her, he could just appreciate her. Except there was no just. He would absolutely appreciate her, for however long this moment with the siren would last. He might have to fight the actual Doctor, if he’d even bother, the idiot.

“I’m not flattering. It’s the truth. Come on, how about you and I forget about all this and have a dance or two?” the Doctor offered. Please please please…

“Alright, but can we go back to the TARDIS?”

He looked at the crowded dance floor with a longing hum. He just  _had_  to see her move. Rose had to be the most elegant dancer. He wanted to see her hips sway, to help her become lost in the beat. The whole crowd would just melt around them if he could just get her over there. And maybe if he was lucky enough she wouldn’t notice how much of a disservice his gangly limbs did him.

“Oh, but Rose, come on. Don’t we deserve our own dance together? I want everyone to see. I want to show you off,” he argued. And there was a bit of the beer offering up its own opinions. Too late to take it back now.

“Oh,” she bleated. Her hand flew to her hair to tuck behind her ear. She rubbed her thighs together and twirled her hair in her fingers. “Yeah, okay.”

Yes! If it wasn’t her, then some other deity was shining down upon him this day, for sure. There was no doubt in his mind. And if he thought his luck couldn’t get any better, just as he began to dash and drag Rose to the dance floor, the music swapped to a slow song. Oh,  _thank you_  DJ! It was difficult to see the color of Rose’s face as they stepped onto the dance floor in a quieter corner, but he did feel her shaking a little. And she’d certainly adapted a much calmer demeanor than the spicy one she’d walked in with.

He struggled with where to put his hands. He knew there was a right way. And he really wanted to impress Rose. If he fucked up at this stage he would never survive to the next day. But rose made this easy for him, bless her. She threaded her fingers around the nape of his neck, so he eased his hands onto her heavenly hips. It wasn’t long before he found her resting her head on his shoulder. He was certain there were proper dance moves. And there was probably a time when a girl like Rose would care. But she looked so tired. And that was a good thing for his two left feet. He could manage swaying. She was wearing a simple dress with sandals, and that thrilled him to bits. Rose would look divine in a potato sack of course. But her bright blue dress that came down to her knees with its thin straps and gentle swaying with her hips definitely slaked a particular thirst he didn’t know he had.

The idiot Doctor that Rose ought to be dancing with had better be thanking him right now, he thought. If this night ended well, Rose could be his forever, not that the pillock deserved it. After a couple minutes he brought Rose in closer, knowing their dance was limited. She hummed at him and brought her lips to his neck for a chaste kiss that had his skin sizzling and him very subtly backing his hips from hers. Rose felt so right in his arms, so damn right. He’d only opened his eyes once or twice during the whole dance, letting himself become so lost in her and the rhythm. He couldn’t handle how soft she was, particularly knowing their precious moment would have to end. And then what would he be left with? How far could he take this? How far could he take her? He decided right then.

“Rose, I’ve got to tell you something,” he murmured in her ear.

“Mmm, in a minute Doctor, yeah?” she purred.

“Please, now? I think the song will end in a minute and I  _have_  to tell you before then, because… I dunno it just won’t sound as nice. Please?” Rose lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. Good enough. “I’m in love with you. I’m madly in love with you and you’ve got to know because I’m scared of what will happen later on. I just need you to hear it. I love you.”

Rose released a high-pitched gasp. “You’re serious?”

“Yes! So serious. Should I… should I say it again? I love you, Rose. Please just stay with me, okay? I’ll take good care of you, I promise, okay? That other Doctor is old news. Long gone.”

She smiled and laughed while pressing her head to his chest. Her breaths came out in big puffs and sighs that sounded like relief. He hoped they were relief. He could use some himself. Waiting for her answer was the worst sort of torture imaginable.

“I love you too, Doctor,” she cooed just before their song ended. She panted a giggled and echoed, “God, I love you.”

“Can I kiss you now? That alright?”

She answered. Oh, bloody hell did she answer. Rose pulled him down to her by his neck and crashed with him in the best way. With her plush lips to his she brought warm tremors that rocketed down his spine to his groin, and he couldn’t stop his hips bucking into hers. But if she noticed she didn’t care. He pushed his luck by lapping at her lips, and she yielded to him. He felt like he could have melted beneath her caresses of his teeth and cheek. He didn’t need to breathe. He just needed her, her nose nuzzling his cheek, her hair tickling his neck, her lips sucking his between hers. She could be his lifeblood. He let himself be carried away by it all, freeing himself of the worry that it all might be a dream.

 

And when the Doctor awoke the next day he almost thought that it was indeed just that, a dream. Except if it was a dream, he was really quite certain he wouldn’t wake up with Rose in his arms, in his bed. His memories were quite vivid. And he closed his eyes just to have them to himself for a moment before he checked under the duvet. Of course he felt Rose wrapped around him in a tight cuddle. But he still had to look. Part of him was so very human that way.

“Ooh,  _yes_!” the Doctor growled before cupping his hand over his mouth. Rose was still asleep, and stirred a little. He kissed her temple and hushed her gently.

There was an easy way to explain to Rose what had happened. And though he felt a distinct pang of guilt stinging him a little, she’d already sort of forgiven him. It’s not as though he’d been possessed. The chemicals wore off in the end, and nobody was hurt. And it was too bad, really. His teenage self was incredibly bold and stupidly lucky. The Doctor ought to find a way to bring him out more often.  


End file.
